The Soundtrack That Made Me
by ChickWithAKick
Summary: Anastasia Matthews has tried to overcome her past repeatedly, but has failed every time. When the WWE gives her an opportunity to overcome it once and for all she grasps on to it, but when John Morrison comes into the picture will she reject everything she knows & give into what he promises or will she remember why she's running? Listen to the soundtrack and find out.
1. Chapter 1: I can't stand your arrogance

**First of all this story gets personal, if you're easily offended then you should probably stop reading.**

**Second, I'd like to give a big thanks to my writing buddy Amber, she helped make this possible. :)**

**Third, there are songs mentioned in each chapter and they show how Anastasia feels so I suggest looking them up. The song names and artists are mentioned. **

**Fourth, please review! :)**

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><p>"I'm not the kind of person that gets nervous much, but I'm freaking out about this," I told my best friend Rain.<p>

I was ten minutes away from my Raw debut and 20,000 people were about to see me run down to the ring and do a promo with someone I already didn't like.

"Anastasia," she started, "Relax. You're going to do great. You're a natural performer."

"Yeah," I said, "I've been a natural performer in front of 50 people at the most. This is 20,000 people."

"True," Rain admitted, " But you'll do fine. You always do."

I sighed. "Ok. But remember it comes on at….,"

"At eight on the east coast. I know Anastasia," she interrupted me.

"Ok," I said, "I'll talk to you later. Bye."

"Bye and good luck," she said.

I hung up my phone and walked over to the mirror. My current reflection was different from my normal one. My dark brown hair was curled and my makeup was done so heavily that I looked a little orange, but the makeup artists said I would need heavy makeup to look normal in the bright lights. The only thing that looked like the real me was my wardrobe. My usual blue jeans with a black shirt, leather jacket, and my converse.

I told Vince as soon as I signed my contract that I refused to dress in skimpy clothing and I would not be the usual diva that backed down from fights. I had intentions of turning the diva's division completely around. I was going to try my best to get it back to the time of Trish Stratus and before Lita was labeled "the slut".

'It's going to be hard,' I thought, 'But I know I can do it.'

"Excuse me, Ms. Mathews," a stagehand interrupted my thoughts.

I turned around and laughed. "I hear Ms. Mathews and I think of my Mama. Please, call me Anastasia," I said reaching out to shake his hand.

"Oh," he said clearly shocked, "Ok. Anastasia."

'He must not be used to being treated with respect. Ugh. Stuck up diva's,' I thought.

I followed him out to the curtain where I would wait for my music to play and I would walk out. Suddenly I felt someone bump into me and knock me down. I looked up expecting to have to chew someone out, but I was shocked by who I saw.

"Oh, sorry about that," John Cena said as he helped me up.

"Um, it's ok," I said, "You're here really early."

A confused look crossed his face. "I'm sorry. I don't understand," he said.

"Oh, it's just that in the script you don't even have to show up until the main event."

"Oh, I see," he started, "My gimmick, you know the hard working, down to earth, blue collar kind of guy?"

I nodded, knowing exactly what he was talking about. I had kept up with Cena's gimmick ever since he began in the WWE.

"Well, it isn't just a gimmick. I try my best to be as much like that as possible. I show up as soon as the show starts and do what I can."

"Oh," I said, "I'm sorry.. Uh, I see I've underestimated you."

He chuckled. "It's ok. That happens a lot to me." He stuck his hand out. "I'm John Cena."

I laughed at his assumption to think I didn't know his name. "I know," I said while taking his hand, "I'm Anastasia Matthews."

I looked down at my hand in his and noticed his hand was very large. My hand almost disappeared in his.

"Well, Anastasia Matthews, you should probably get going."

I was rather confused. "Why," I asked.

He laughed. "Because your music is playing."

I suddenly heard Cry For Help by Shinedown playing throughout the arena.

"OH! Well, thanks," I said.

I threw back the curtain and ran out. The nerves that clenched me earlier were suddenly gone. I did just as I had rehearsed that day. I ran to one side of the stage and threw my fist in the air and gave everyone a smile, then I ran to the opposite side of the ramp and did the same. The crowd responded in cheers and screams as if they'd already loved me. I ran down to the ring and slid in gracefully. I grabbed a mic and couldn't help smiling.

'They like me,' I thought, 'Holy crap! They actually like me!'

"Hello, Green Bay, Wisconsin!" The crowd roared with appreciation. "Well, I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Anastasia Matthews." The crowd clapped politely. "Now, even though I'm a rookie I have ambitions. Ambitions like getting that Women's Championship Title around my waist. Unlike the most of the other diva's around here, I plan to do that with my clothes on." The crowd roared with cheers and laughter. "Don't get me wrong," I started, "Some of the divas have kept themselves covered and accomplished great.."

Just as the promo was planned, Brie Bella's music came over the speakers and interrupted me. Everything seemed to be going just as planned. Now, we just had to insult each other for about five minutes. Brie stopped at the top of the stage with a mic in her hand.

"Anastasia, is it?" she asked.

"Well, yeah," I said indifferently.

"Ha. Nice name. Anyway, let me be the first to tell you that to succeed in this business, you have to make some sacrifices and that includes shedding a few layers of clothing."

I cocked my head to the side. "Really? Are you sure about that? Because you're barley covering anything up and people hardly even know who you are." The crowd laughed loudly and cheered happily. "As a matter of fact," I started, "To go any farther in this business, you just might have to come out here naked." Brie's face contorted with anger.

"How dare you?" she asked.

I shrugged. "The same way you dare to walk out into public with a g-string on."

She gasp and started to come towards the ring, but thought better of it.

My anger got the best of me and decided to spice up the script a bit. I cocked my head to the side again.

"Oh you want to fight?" I asked in my sarcastic tone, "Well, what's stopping you? Huh?" I waited for Brie to change her mind and come down to the ring and of course…. She didn't.

I chuckled. "It's as simple as this Brie: If you want to fight me, you know exactly where to find me."

I tossed the mic and got out of the ring. I walked up the ramp and looked Brie directly in the eyes and spoke low enough so only she could hear me.

"I meant every word, this isn't just a promo…. I'm not your friend." I walked away and left here standing there.

As soon as I got backstage I went straight to the locker room and grabbed my bag. I figured I should wait in my car since I hadn't really warmed up to the divas yet. With my bag slung over my shoulder I pushed the backstage door open and was greeted by the cold December air. I pulled my jacket tighter. I usually loved the cold weather, but winter in Wisconsin was brutal.

"It won't be this cold in Boise," a voice said.

I spun around and saw John Morrison standing against the brick wall.

"Sorry," he said, "I didn't meant to scare you"

"It's ok," I said.

He walked toward me with and intense look on his face and stopped directly in front of me. For a moment I thought he was going to kiss me.

'Wow,' I thought, 'Quick worker.' But then he bent down and picked up my bag. I didn't even realized I had dropped it.

"Here," he said while handing me the bag.

"Thanks."

"Hiding in your car?" he asked

"What?" I asked shocked, "I mean no! I'm not hiding, I just don't want to be around those kind of girls."

He laughed. "Ok. Calm down. You don't have to explain yourself to me."

I straightened up proudly. "You're right. I don't." He chuckled arrogantly.

"Don't laugh at me," I said angrily. I couldn't stand his smug little attitude.

"I'm not laughing at you. I just.."

"I don't really care what you were laughing at," I said interrupting him, "You just need to know that I don't take the "rookie treatment" very well and I'm not going to back down from your little game and while we're at it how about we establish the fact that I don't like your smug little attitude and I can't stand your arrogance."

He stayed quiet for a moment with a small smile on his lips.

"You done?" he asked. I sighed and crossed my arms to signify that I was indeed done.

"Ok," he started, "I wasn't trying to give you the rookie treatment. I was just remembering back to when I was a rookie."

"Oh," I said a little embarrassed. I could feel my face heating up. He smiled at my blush as if I were a cute little five year old.

"That's how I knew you were going to.."

"_Wait_," I interrupted, "I was going to _wait_ in my car." He chuckled slightly.

"That's how I knew you were going to _wait_ in your car… I did that my first month in this business."

"Really," I asked. I could barley believe that John Morrison used to be insecure.

"Yeah," he said, "Hard to believe I know, but underneath that cocky cover up I was really scared." I straightened up.

"Well, I'm not scared," I said.

He smiled. "Ok."

"I'm not!" I protested, "I just don't like hanging around those kind of girls!" He laughed even more.

"Ok ok," he said, "I believe you!"

His laughing irritated me so bad that I had to walk away. I was so angry I could barley see straight and that must have played against me because I ran straight into John Cena and fell on my butt. He turned around as if someone had thrown a paper ball at him. He looked down and laughed.

"Well, hi there. Fancy meeting you here," he said while helping me up.

"Sorry," I said, "I was…. never mind."

"You were talking to Morrison," he said.

"Yeah, regrettably," I said. John smiled.

"Hey, he's actually a really good guy. He's just trying to help you out."

"Well, he doesn't have to be so cocky about it," I said while crossing my arms. John chuckled.

"Yeah," he said, "He does that when he likes people." I was a little shocked by that. John Morrison liked me? I wondered if it was friendly or…. Friendlier and what if it was friendlier hmmmm.

'Oh my gosh! What am I thinking? It doesn't matter if he likes me or not! You got to snap out of it, focus girl!" I told myself.

"Uh Anastasia?" Cena said while waving a hand in front of my face.

"Huh?"

"You zoned out there for a minute," he said.

"Oh," I said, "Yeah um. I was just… nothing."

"Ok," he siad not really convinced, "Well, I better get in there. A mans work is never done."

I laughed quietly to myself as I watched him walk up to the building. He stopped to talk to Morrison, but all they did was that hug/handshake thing. I rolled my eyes not understanding the silent language that men seemed to speak fluently.

I turned and looked for my car. I found my shining black 1967 Chevy Impala sitting in its spot. I got in and turned the heat on full blast. I sat in the car and absorbed the heat. Once I was warm I turned on the radio just in time to hear a song that always seemed to help me cheer up. Skillet's Whispers in the Dark drifted through my speakers with its slow piano beginning then it soon began to pound and shake my car windows with its heavy guitar rifts. The lyrics soothed my emotions. "Despite the lies that you're making, your love is mine for the taking. My love is just waiting to turn your tears to roses," John Coopers voice filled my ears.

I knew being a Christian in this business would be hard, but at least I had my music. Music always helped me through the rough parts of life. It got me through the times that my father was rushed to the institute due to his severe bi-polar, the time my grandfather died, getting thrown in and out of foster homes, and the time my first boyfriend….

My thoughts were interrupted by a tap on my window. I didn't recognize the woman standing there, but she seemed harmless so I got out.

"Can I help you?" I asked

"Yeah," she said awkwardly, "Um my daughter thought you were just hilarious."

A little girl no more than five, with curly red hair and green eyes, emerged from behind the mothers legs.

"This is Susie," the mother said.

I kneeled down to the shy little girl who clung to her mothers pants.

"Hi Susie," I said. She smiled shyly.

"Hi," she said in her shy little girl voice.

"She was wondering if she could get your autograph and a picture with you," the mother said.

'Autograph?' I thought, 'Really?'

"Um yeah. Absolutely," I said.

Susie handed me a notebook and a pen. I signed my name as neatly as possible, I've always written really sloppy, but I wanted to make sure Susie got as much as possible out of tonight. Right down to the handwriting. The mother then got out a camera and I kneeled down again next to Susie. Then she surprised me by putting her tiny arms around my neck in a hug pose. I decided to do the same and wrapped my arms around her small shoulders and we smiled. Her mother snapped the picture and Susie turned to whisper in my ear.

"Thank you," she said, "I've had fun."

"No problem, Susie."

Susie and her mother walked off to see the rest of the show. I stood up and turned to open my car door, but felt a tug on my jacket. I turned and saw Susie standing there smiling.

"I think the divas should cover up more too. If they don't they'd just get cold right?"

I laughed. "You're right, Susie," I said between laughs, "They probably would get cold."

Susie smiled even wider and then skipped, yes she literally skipped, off to catch up with her mother.

'Wow,' I thought, 'One night and I already have a fan. Maybe we could all learn something from her simple way of looking at things.' I got in my car and decided to drive to the hotel and get a head start on sleep. I checked in and went up to my room. I put on my extra long pajama top and boxers then got into bed. I folded my hands and prayed my prayer that consisted of requests to help almost every person I knew and even some I didn't know. Once I finished praying I snuggled down into the bed and my last thought before drifting off to sleep was, 'Yeah, I should think more like a five year old. Age just seems to complicate things.'

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><p><strong>Hi there, me again. Just let me know what you thought. <strong>


	2. Chapter 2: Bring On The Competition

**First: No beta reader yet, may find errors. I'm working on it**

**Second: Thanks to TimsGurl34, she's a great help and a great author. :) Check out her story: Dancing with the Devil.**

**Third: This chapter contains abuse, if that's offensive to you, sorry.**

**Fourth: Please review and tell me what you think or if you have any suggestions.**

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><p>"<em>Did you really think you were going to get away from me?" he spat down at me. <em>

"_Please don't, I'm sorry…" _

_He interrupted me by slapping me across the face._

"_Your apologies aren't making up for your stupidity anymore," he said as he grabbed my shirt and hauled me up. He wrenched his other hand in my hair and brought my face close to his._

"_Now, listen Anastasia dear. You try to run away from me again… and I'll make you beg for death. Got it?" he whispered evilly. I nodded while my eyes widened with fear. He smiled wickedly. _

"_You've always been so cute while you were scared." He threw me down to the floor and began to walk away._

"_You're sick," I muttered. _

_He suddenly stopped and turned around slowly._

"_What. Did. You. Just. Say?" he asked quietly._

_I was so frightened I couldn't even speak. I thought I'd said that low enough that he couldn't hear._

"_WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME?" he demanded._

_I tried to answer him, but nothing came out of my mouth. He ran towards me and drove his foot directly into my ribs._

I gasped and woke up in a cold sweat. I looked around frantically to make sure I was alone…. I was. I sighed in relief.

'Just a dream,' I thought, 'Just a dream.. More of a nightmare really.'

I looked at my cell phone clock which read 5:27 a.m. and I rolled my eyes. Not only was I constantly bothered by nightmares, but I couldn't sleep for very long either. I got up and dialed Mama's number. She was always up early.

The phone rang once and she immediately answered.

"Hey baby," Mama said in her southern voice. She had been born and raised in Mississippi, but moved to Newark, New Jersey to help with the run down foster homes. She saw me on the street one day being teased because I was the only white kid in the neighborhood. Mama walked right up to those kids and said, "Y'all get mad when somebody teases you 'cause you're black, but you turn right around and tease this young lady just 'cause she's white? That don't make you any better than those who hurt you."

I always loved that memory. As soon as she scolded those kids she lead me away and took me into her home and from them on she was Mama.

"Hey Mama," I said.

"We saw you on the TV last night." She was practically beaming through the phone. "Oh, honey, you did just wonderful! Me and your Daddy couldn't stop laughing and when you walked up that ramp and confronted that poor girl. Lord! You almost scared _me_ with that look you gave her! And you know I'm Leona the Lion!"

I laughed at my Mama's joke. "Yes ma'am, you are."

A silence hung over us for a while.

"You still having them nightmares, baby?" she asked.

I sighed. "Yes ma'am. They just won't go away."

"You still praying?"

"Yes ma'am. I just wish I knew why God wants me to see them so much."

"Honey, maybe God wants you to see it enough so you won't be scared anymore."

I had never thought of it like that. Mama always gave the best advice.

"Thanks Mama. You always have an answer."

"I'll always try my best to have what you need, honey," she said sweetly.

I smiled, so thankful for her.

"I love you Mama," I said.

"I love you too, baby. You take care of yourself with that fighting, you hear?"

I laughed softly at Mama's southern way of wording things.

"Yes ma'am. I will," I said.

"Bye-bye sweetie."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone and decided to pray. I kneeled down and prayed a prayer of thanks for Mama. Without her life on the road would really suck. I got up and went to shower. Once I got out I rifled through my suitcase for some clothes. I had to dress nice today for the press conference for the upcoming paper view. I decided to go with my straight leg jeans, black knee-high boots, a dark purple fitted tee with a black cross on it, and my faithful leather jacket. Once I was dressed I went to the bathroom and fixed my hair into its usual punk style with a wavy texture. Then I applied the smoky eye shadow style, lined my eyes, and coated my eyelashes with mascara just how the make up artists taught me. I looked into the mirror expecting to see my normal reflection. Instead I saw a woman with striking green eyes and a beautiful skin tone.

"Woah."

I had never seen this woman before. This woman looked almost beautiful. Just then I heard knock on the door. I looked at the clock which read 6:45. The press conference was at eight, but it was still a little early to leave. I opened the door and found the same guy who had led me to the curtain the night before.

"Good morning, Ms. Matt-…. Anastasia," he said correcting himself before he said Ms. Matthews.

I realized I had never gotten his name.

"Good morning, nameless stranger," I said with a smile.

He laughed. "Sorry, my name's Bryan."

"Well, nice to meet you Bryan," I started, "What are you doing here so early?"

"Well, I was told to come get you so the make up artists could get a hold of you, but I see you've already taken care of that," he said while blushing.

'Aw! How cute,' I thought.

"Well, since I'm ready I guess that means you can take a break," I said.

He looked shocked. "Oh. Um. Ok. Thanks."

I closed the door and packed my bags. Right after the press conference we were scheduled for a direct flight to Boise, Idaho. I took my bags to my car and decided to head to the press conference early. I put my key into the ignition and turned. Instead of the roaring sound of the engine I got complete silence. I tried again and again…. And again.

"Great," I muttered. The only thing I knew about cars was how to fill it up with gas. I popped the hood anyway and go tout. I raised the hood and saw nothing, but a whole lot of stuff I knew nothing about.

"Need some help there?"

I turned and saw Morrison standing behind me.

"No," I said, "I can do this I just.. Need a manual."

He laughed and I whirled around to snap at him.

"Whoa whoa," he said raising his hands, "I'm not laughing at _you_, I'm laughing at your sense of humor."

I closed my mouth that was ready to fire off an insult at any minute.

"Now, would you like some help?"

I sighed. "Yes. Please.," I said frustrated. I stepped back and let him take a look. He put one of his hands on the hood to hold it up. My eyes followed his hand all the way down his extremely trimmed arms and to the muscles in his back.

"Well, here's your problem," he said while leaning over.

'Filling out those jeans very nicely,' I thought.

"What?" he asked.

Oh crap! Maybe I said that out loud.

"Um nothing," I said, "What's the problem."

I walked over to look at what I didn't understand.

"Your coil wire came off," he said. He reached down and fiddled with what I assumed was the coil wire.

"There you go," he said, "Try to start it."

I got in, turned the key, and viola! The engine roared to life. Morrison shut the hood and walked over to the window.

"Thanks," I said smiling. I couldn't believe I was actually smiling at him.

"No problem," he said, "I saw you looking at it and I figured you needed a mans help."

I squinted my eyes. "What?"

"A mans help. Women don't know anything about cars."

"Excuse me?" I said angrily, "You think just because I'm a woman I can't do what you can?"

Morrison's face looked shocked, as if he didn't know what he did wrong.

"No," he said, "I just, well I-I. What I meant was…"

"Oh don't worry. I got exactly what you meant," I said.

I put the car in drive and peeled out causing the tires to sling rocks at him. I didn't know much

about cars, but I knew how to leave and impression. I looked in my rearview mirror and saw that instead of

laughing like last time, he had a furious look on his face.

'Serves him right,' I thought.

I drove down the road until I found the building that the press conference would be held. I parked

my car and decided to listen to some music before I went in. I popped in a CD and found a song that would

help me calm down. Save Me by Shinedown came through my speakers. I sat and absorbed its rock rifts. In

no time I was calm again and ready for the press conference. I went into the building and found another

stagehand waiting for me at the front door.

"Hi. Ok, you're supposed to stand with the divas over there. When they call out the diva's you just

walk out with them, don't forget to smile and wave, and then sit in the seat with your name plate on it. Since

you're extremely new they shouldn't ask you any question, but if they do just smile and be cute. Got it?" He

said all of this while walking me over to the divas, brushing some dust off my jeans, and checking my hair

for fly aways.

"Uh yeah. I think," I said.

"Good. Now, let me see your teeth."

My teeth? I smiled and he inspected my teeth, why I'm not sure.

"Ok good. Now, just wait for the cue." Then he walked away leaving me confused.

"I see you've met Kevin," a voice said.

I turned and saw that the voice came from Eve.

"Hi," she said, "I'm Eve."

"Anastasia. Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, I know. You really rocked your debut last night," she said.

"Thanks."

"No problem, but you should probably watch what you say."

"Huh?"

"Well, incase you haven't noticed, most of us divas don't cover much skin and you might make

someone really angry."

I smiled at her intimidation tactic. I hope she didn't think it was actually going to work on someone

like me.

"I fully intend to," I said with threat clear in my voice.

Then we heard a voice call the "lovely WWE Divas" out to the stage. I did just as I was told. I

smiled and waved then found my seat and sat down.

Camera's flashed and all the reporters talked at once trying to be louder than each other. Finally

one rang out.

"Kelly Kelly! There's a rumor going around that you'll be on the cover of Maxim Hot 100. Is this

true?"

Kelly giggled and flipped her hair. "Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see. Won't we?"

I rolled my eyes. 'Oh my gosh. How ditsy can you be?' I thought.

"Eve," someone else yelled out, " wants to know what shampoo you use."

Eve smiled. "Why Pantene of course," she chimed.

'Seriously? I thought this was supposed to be about the upcoming paper view. I never should have

even come,' I thought.

As soon as that thought ran through my mind a reporter rang out.

"Anastasia!"

My head popped up and I spotted a man in a blue blazer.

"You made quite an impact on your Raw debut last night. What would you say if Vince decided to

put you in the upcoming paper view?" he asked.

Ok, Kevin said I should be cute, but is that really me?….. Not by a long shot.

I smiled. "I'd say "Bring on the competition.""

The reporters went crazy with more questions and camera's flashed repeatedly. It was clear that I'd

stirred up the WWE Universe.

The host decided to rap it up, he obviously wasn't expecting that response.

"Ok. Time for our ladies to go backstage, but now ladies and gentlemen please welcome Alberto

Del Rio and John Cena to discuss their match at the upcoming paper view."

As we exited backstage I passed Cena and he was smiling.

"Way to go, Anastasia," he said giving me a fist bump.

"Thanks Cena," I said smiling back.

As this exchange happened all the divas stood by and stared as if I were growing two heads. I gave

them my best "bring it on" smile and walked off. As I walked away I heard Del Rio spout off something

about his destiny and just as it started to get annoying I heard Cena interrupt. "Shut up! We've all heard

about your stupid destiny so let me give you a new one: WWE Survivor Series. John Cena vs. Alberto Del

Rio. Del Rio will say something stupid about his destiny and John Cena's going to knock his teeth down his

throat!"

I laughed at his blunt attitude. The more I thought about it the more I realized that I was just as

blunt as he was. Maybe that's exactly what this business needed, a female version of John Cena.

Before I could get any further in that thought I felt a hand grab my arm. I swung my fist expecting

to connect with someone who clearly didn't know me, but whoever it was ducked and hauled me off to the a

dark corner. Once I got a good look at who it was I almost swung my fist again. Instead I fired my mouth.

"Morrison, who the hell do you think you are?"

Morrison was still not laughing. "I need to talk to you."

"Well, I don't have time talk," I snapped trying to walk away.

"Yeah, well, I think you need to _make_ time," he said putting his arms on either side of me blocking

my exit.

"I don't know what your problem is, but I was just trying to help you. Ok? You had no right to

peel out and sling rocks at me."

"Oh please! You had no right to insult my intelligence just because I'm a woman," I fired back.

Morrison rolled his eyes. "I wasn't trying to label as "the woman who knows nothing about cars" I

just saw that you looked confused so I decided to help you. Only God knows why."

I was so not about to buy that. "Oh yeah. You weren't trying to label me like I don't label you as

the pretty boy who waxes his eyebrows!"

"You know, I'm so sick of your smart mouth and I've only known you for two days," he shot back.

I laughed sarcastically. "As if _you _know me! You haven't even begun to scratch the surface," I fired

at him. I took a deep breath and calmed down.

"How about we agree to disagree. You stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours, Pretty Boy."

"Fine," he said loudly.

"Fine," I said just as loudly.

I turned and stormed off leaving him in the dust.

'That idiot! Thinking he knows me? Please! As if he'd even _want _to know me!'

I kept walking without any idea as to where I was going. I just kept muttering to myself about his

idiotic remarks. I was so mad I didn't know what to do, so I just kept walking.

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><p><strong>Hey there! :) Please, please, please review! Let me know so I can change anything you might not like.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3: Rhinestones and Managers

"No, Anastasia," Cena told me, "You have to push back on the ropes. You can't just bounce off of them." Cena had agreed to train me a bit for my match with Brie. It had been two weeks since my debut and my little encounter with Morrison. We had stayed true to our agreement, and I hadn't seen or heard from him. "What's the difference?" I asked. "When you just bounce off the ropes, you don't get the momentum of pushing off of them. Here watch." Cena ran across the ring and bounced off the ropes which pushed him forward bit. "See? Not much momentum, but push off the ropes," he stopped mid sentence and ran to the ropes. Pushing back, he was slung forward by the momentum. He brought his arm back and clotheslined the dummy we were practicing with. His clothesline was so effective it caused the dummy to turn a back flip. "Woah," I said stunned. He smiled. "Yeah. The faster you run and the harder you push back on the ropes equals enough momentum to make a small person turn a flip." "Oh thank you Isaac Newton," I said jokingly. "Oh somebody's tying to be sarcastic. I see I'm going to have to teach you a little lesson," he said while playfully punching his hand. "And just what are you going to do about it?" I teased "I believe," he said while circling me, "I'm going to have to give you an Attitude Adjustment." Cena quickly picked me up onto his shoulders for the A.A. He spun around and threatened to drop me. "Ok ok," I shouted, "I give! Cena, I give!" He put me down while laughing. I decided to take him by surprise and punch him in the abdomen. "Oof! Oh you're going to get it!" he said smiling. He ran towards me and without even thinking about it a dropped down and did a drop toe hold. He fell down to the mat, and I stood up. Cena turned and sat up. "Alright Anastasia!" "Thanks," I beamed. "I didn't even think about it! I just did it!" He laughed at my excitement. "That's great Anastasia," he said while grabbing a water bottle and tossing me one. We took a swig of water and rested a moment. After catching our breath Cena looked over to me with a questioning look on his face. "What?" I asked. "Do you have a nick name? I mean Anastasia's kind of a mouthful." I thought for a moment. "No. Not really. While I was growing up it was either Anastasia or White Girl." He squinted his eyes showing he was confused. "White Girl?" "Yeah," I said, "I grew up in Newark, New Jersey and I got tossed around from foster home to foster home and all the kids in the neighborhood were black so I was teased a lot for being the 'White Girl.' The nice kids called me Anastasia. The not so nice kids usually said, 'Hey White Girl! The hookers hang out on 27th street'." "Ouch. Sounds tough," Cena said. "Yeah. But they weren't all bad. I had a really good friend named Tamika. She was really artistic," I recalled. "Must have been a good friend then." "Yeah," I started, "She was great…. I sure do miss her." "Well, where is she?" I stayed silent for a moment, remembering the painful memory of her disappearance. She wasn't just my friend; she was my foster sister. I looked down at my feet to inconspicuously blink away my tears. "There's been an Amber Alert on her for 10 years." "Oh.. I 'm so sorry," Cena said. "It's ok," I started, "After that I found Mama and my best friend Rain, or they found me rather. Mama has taken care of us since we were eleven." "Rain? Cool name," he said chuckling a little. "Oh that's not all. Her last name is Storm," I said while laughing. "Rain Storm?" "Yeah. Mama took us to the court house one day and let us choose Matthews as our last name or keep our original last names. Rain decided to look at a list and once she saw Storm she fell in love with it." Cena laughed at my childhood story. Once we recovered from laughing Cena told me some of his many childhood stories which told me that Cena had been a goof ball his whole life. We talked and laughed at each others childhoods until we were blue in the face. It was becoming clear that Cena was going to be my best friend on the we were done with our stories and laughing at each other Cena piped up. "We still need to find a nick name for you… How about Ana?" I shook my head. "Not really my style . I more of a unique and different person." He thought a while. "Well, I'm stumped. Maybe I'll come up with something later," he said while taking off his under armor shirt. Need less to say he was very chiseled. "Ooh! Very nice!" I said while patting his abs. He laughed. "Why thank ya darlin'," he said imitating a southern accent. He posed a bodybuilder pose and then he did a Hulk Hogan pose. I laughed and whistled. "Hot stuff." Cena laughed. "Come on. We're burning daylight," he said a little embarrassed. I walked to the locker room and showered up for the Diva's photo shoot. I put on a pair of tight jeans and a red and black graphic design shirt along with my leather jacket. I was right in the middle of trying to decide between high tops or knee boots when Cena walked in. "Hey. Let's go get something to eat," he said bluntly.

"I can't. I've got the Diva's photo shoot in 30 minutes," I said. Cena opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a quick knock on the door. Bryan, the stagehand turned assistant for me, poked his head around the door. "Anastasia, the Diva's photo shoot is canceled." Bryan looked over at Cena and did the head nod thing that guys do and Cena returned the nod. 'More silent guy language,' I thought. Cena turned and smiled. "Looks like your schedule just cleared up. Let's go," he said walking towards the door. "Wait." He turned around. "What?" he asked impatiently. "Knee boots or high tops?" "Knee boots," he said without skipping a beat, "Makes your legs look hot." I squinted my eyes and leaned my head to the side. He sighed. "I'm married ok? I hear this kind of stuff all of the time so I know what makes a woman of 5'7' look good." I raised one eyebrow. "What ever you say, Cena," I said while putting on my boots. I stood up and examined myself in the mirror, and I had to admit I was wrong which is not something I do very often. The knee boots did in fact make my legs look "hot". I looked over at Cena to see a smug look on his face. "Told you so," he said in a sing song voice. I rolled my eyes. "Oh shut up." We walked out of the locker room and made our way through the arena. I was glad that Cena knew the way through this one. We were in different arenas every night so it was hard to keep track of how to get to the exit of any of them. Somehow Cena walked straight to one of the exits without even seeming like he was lost. We walked through the door and to the parking lot. I began to walk to my car, but was interrupted by Cena saying, "Why don't we just take the rental?" I made a face and shook my head. "I like my car. Just get in." "Yes ma'am," Cena laughed.

We got in, and I turned the key. That old familiar roar of the engine sounded, and Cena looked impressed. I popped a CD in and Nothing But Good Time by Poison came through my speakers. "Very festive," Cena said over the music. I laughed. "Thanks." He reached over and turned down the music. "I think I figured out a nick name for you." "Oh really?" I said, "What?" "Well, you said you're different and unique, and I have to agree with that," he said smiling, "So how about Stasia?" I thought for a moment considering the strangeness of the name. "Hmmmm…. I like it," I said, "Just weird enough to describe me." Cena laughed. "Can't say I disagree with that." "Oh shut up," I said. "Come on! You know you have to love me," he said. "Oh really now? I have to love you?" "Yeah," Cena agreed, "It's like a law of science. You have to." I rolled my eyes at his stupid joke. "So where are we going?" "Buffalo Wild Wings," he said while rubbing his stomach.I smiled. "Such a guy place, but I can't say I hate it." We pulled into the parking lot of Buffalo Wild Wings. (thank God for GPS) We went inside and waited to get seated. Suddenly a little boy ran directly up to Cena and asked him for an autograph in a very fast sentence. He had baby blonde hair and blue eyes, he reminded of what Cena probably looked like as a kid. Cena gave him an autograph and the little kid ran back to his parents, but that wasn't the last of the autographs. Once Cena was noticed by that one kid, he was noticed by every single kid, teen, and adult in the whole restaurant. Once we finally made our way through the crowd, we were able to find a booth and sit down. "So how's life on the road been treating you?" "Oh fine," I lied Cena raised an eyebrow. "Come on Stasia. You can tell me." I stayed quiet for a while. I was trying my best not to show weakness around any superstar, even if it was just Cena. "Well," he sighed, "You can't lie that's for sure. You're forgetting that I was a rookie once, and I know exactly how tough it is on the road. Hell, life on the road still gets to me every now and then.. But a buddy makes it a whole lot easier," he said the last sentence with a smile. I laughed. "So does that make you my buddy?" I asked sarcastically. Cena smiled. "Absolutely." I chuckled slightly. 'Thank God for friends like Cena,' I thought, 'Without him I'd be pretty lonely.' "Hey you two," We heard a voice call from across the room. I turned and saw Morrison heading to our booth. "Ugh," I sighed. "Be nice," Cena said, "He's always nice to you." "He's obnoxious to me," I said. "Yeah," Cena agreed, "But in a nice way." I rolled my eyes. Morrison strolled over. I had to admit, he was built, and his hair looked better than most women's hair. And he did try to be nice to me. "Hey Cena," he said reaching our table. "Sup Morrison." They did the handshake/hug thing again. Morrison looked at me while smiling. "Hey Stasia." I jerked my head toward Cena. "Did you tell him my nick name?" I demanded. "What? No! I haven't even spoken to him since we decided it," Cena defended himself with his hands held up in front of him. I looked at Morrison cautiously. "Lucky guess?" he suggested. I sighed. "Fine." A silence hung over us until Cena decided to break it. "So...uh... I'm going to make a pit stop really quick. Uh... Morrison, have a seat and join us." Before I could protest, Cena had ran off to the bathroom, and I was stuck to make small talk with Morrison. "Cheater," I mumbled. Morrison sat down next to me and smiled like an idiot. "What?" I asked irritated. "Nothing," he said, "I'm just being polite. You look good." "Thanks," I muttered. Morrison sighed. "Come on. I'm just trying to be nice," he said. I looked at him, and he was smiling a persistent smile. I had to admit he did seem like he was trying. I sighed. "Fine. If you can be nice so can I. You look…." my voice trailed off as I tried to find something on him I liked. I took note of his Ed Hardy rhinestone shirt. "Sparkly," I finished. He squinted his eyes. "Thank you?" he said with confusion in his voice. Just then Cena walked back up to the table and sat down. "Well, both of you are still alive so I'll take that as a good sign." We laughed at the same time then immediately stopped realizing we were agreeing on something. Laughing and stopping at the exact same time caused the most awkward moment I had ever been in. "And that awkward uncomfortable feeling returns," Cena said. I silently agreed with him, but some how we all got through dinner without Morrison or myself threatening to kill each other. We all headed back to the arena and went to our appointed locker rooms. Morrison and Cena to their separate dressing rooms and I to the very public Diva's locker room. Once I walked in, everyone's eyes were immediately focused on me. This was a regular occurrence when I was anywhere the Diva's were. I had learned to ignore it. I walked over to my suit case and got out my wrestling gear. My first match was against Brie later that night, and I was scheduled to win. 'Pretty lucky I guess,' I thought. 'Most rookies don't get to win their first match.' I laid out all my wrestling gear. It was tough trying to find modest and cute gear, but being the determined person I was I made sure to find some. I had decided to go with the gray tights with a red rock styled graphic design on them, a black top with a corseted back, and my black knee high combat boots. Everything was laid out and I began to undress so I could change. There was a sudden gasp from all of the size two diva's. I looked over my shoulder and smirked. "Like what you see ladies? A bit more than what you've got, huh Kelly?" Kelly Kelly looked away quickly, embarrassed. I changed into my gear and decided to listen to IPod until it was time for my match. I didn't hide out in my car anymore because the diva's didn't get to me at all. I went through my play list of songs that got me fired up. Raw had been on for about 30 minutes and in about 7 minutes I would go face Brie. Just enough time for one more song. I scrolled through the songs and chose my favorite one for fighting. Smackdown by Thousand Foot Krutch began playing through my ears. I noticed the irony of my listening to a song named Smackdown despite the fact I was on Raw. I got up and warmed up with a couple boxing punches. The song ended just as Bryan knocked on my door. "Anastasia, it's time." I smiled. "It sure is." I walked to the curtain and waited. Brie had already walked out and was waiting for me. Right on cue, Cry For Help by Shinedown rang through the arena. I threw back the curtain and went through my entrance. As I walked down the ramp, the announcer called out my information. "Approaching the ring, from Newark, New Jersey, our newest diva, Anastasia Matthews!" The crowd cheered loudly. I'd only been in the WWE for three weeks, but I already a more than decent amount of fans. The week before I'd challenged Brie to the match and revealed that I was a Christian. The WWE Universe responded very well. It was clear that the fans were ready for a dignified diva's division.I slid into the ring and ran to one corner of the ropes and climbed onto the second level. I noticed a guy with a sign that said, "Anastasia has answered my prayers." I smiled and pointed to the guy. "Nice sign," I yelled.

I jumped down from the ropes and looked over at Brie. My music faded out of the arena, and the ref went through his usual routine of making sure we were both ready. The bell rang and the match was underway. I waited for Brie to run towards me like she was supposed to, but she didn't. She smirked a little trying to tell me she wasn't afraid, but I knew that was a lie. I walked toward her and put my face directly in hers. We were eye to eye, nose to nose, and toe to toe as Brie raised her hand and slapped me across the face. What she didn't realize is she hit me just hard enough to tick me off. I looked at her slowly and saw the fear in her eyes. I smiled a little to further her fear. I brought my fist back and punched her so hard she went staggering back. She staggered towards me without knowing it and I gave her a roundhouse kick to the head. The crowd cheered and roared, happy with the intensity I had brought to the fight. I walked over to Brie and picked her up roughly. She was lucid enough for us to engage in the lock up the way we were supposed to start the match. She pushed against me trying to power out of my grip when she realized she couldn't she kicked me in my abdomen. None of this was what had been planned. I hunched over holding my stomach, and she grabbed my hair and threw me down which really ticked me off. I began to get up, but she kicked me in my ribs. I grunted in pain, but I was still fired up. She was not going to make me look like a punk. I raised my legs and did the signature HBK jump up. She froze, realizing I was angry. I snatched a fistful of her hair and smashed her head into the turnbuckle. She staggered away holding her head. I mounted to top rope to deliver my finishing move, the cyclone shooter. Just as she turned towards me, I jumped off and spun in the air placing a drop kick directly in Brie's abdomen, knocking the breath out of her. I covered her and the ref counted 1.. 2.. 3! The crowd roared for the new intense and dignified diva. The ref raised my hand and I reveled in my moment. Once I was finished cheering with the crowd, I walked backstage still flying off the high of the crowd. I suddenly bumped into someone. I turned expecting to see Cena, since I'm always bumping into him. Instead I found Morrison. "Hey, great match," he said smiling. "Thanks," I said. I wasn't even being sarcastic, I actually meant it. "Yeah. No problem. Just too bad you can't follow the script," he said. My eyes widened in anger. "Excuse me? She started it you idiot! I wasn't going to choke and let her get the best of me!" He chuckled arrogantly. "So now I'm an idiot?" "You're definitely giving yourself that title buddy!" "Aw, Stasia, if you're in love with me why don't you just say so?" he said arrogantly. "What?" I said fuming, "If you think _that_ then you're insane! You are absolutely ridiculous! There's no way in-" "Woah. What's all the yelling about over here? I'm trying to run a show here, and you two seem to be making it even louder than what it usually is," Vince McMahon interrupted me. "Your arrogant superstar here has a problem with the way I followed the script," I said. "Ha! You call that following the script? That's ridiculous! You obviously can't take direction with your pride issues!" "Pride? HA! Look who's talking! The most-" "Hey hey," Vince interrupted again, "Both of you calm down….. I see a lot of intensity between you two." Morrison and I exchanged looks while Vince held somewhat of a thinking face. Vince stayed silent for a while apparently going over in his head what he just saw. Finally, he nodded. "Yeah. I'm going to talk to the creative writers about this." I stared at him with confusion written all over my face. "About what?" I asked. "About you being Morrison's manager. Bye." Vince said bluntly. He turned and walked away. My mouth dropped open. "What? Vince...Wait!" I called after him running to catch up with him. "Ok Vince," I said, "Not that I don't respect your opinion or anything, but as you just saw, we can't even carry on a polite conversation so exactly why should I be Morrison's manager?" "Because managers lead to love interests," he said simply. "What?" I exclaimed, "We don't even like each other much less love each other! We almost hate each other!" "Hate is a passionate emotion, Anastasia, and I'm still your boss. Good night," Vince said walking away leaving me dumbfounded. I was so shocked I couldn't even speak. I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. 'Lord,' I prayed desperately, 'Please give me strength!'


	4. Chapter 4: Ridiculous Standards

**Ok guys, here's chapter four. I'm sooooooooooooo sorry it took so long. Senior year was hectic and then I got a job and well, I've been busy!**

**I meant to say this earlier: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING WWE, ANY OF THE SONGS MENTIONED OR THE ARTISTS, OR ANY OTHER "FAMOUS" THINGY IN THIS STORY! JUST MY STORY LINE AND MY OC'S! **

**Once again, look up the songs mentioned. THEY. ARE. IMPORTANT. **

**"Alrighty. Who's ready for some field trippin?" :D**

**Please review! First person to tell me where I got that field trip joke, I'll mention you in the next chapter! Oh by the way, I don't own that quote or the movie it's from either. :P **

**Now, gather 'round chirens! It's story time! :)**

"Well," Morrison said as he put is arm around me, "Looks like we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other."

I looked at him with false innocent eyes. "Morrison, do you value that arm?" I asked with a fake smile.

Morrison shrugged. "As much as my other extremities."

My smile disappeared. "Then I suggest you remove it from my shoulders," I said. I quickly walked away. I couldn't believe Vince was going to do this! How was I going to put up with Morrison's obnoxious attitude?

'How am I not going to kill him?' I thought. 'I'm not doing this. I'm so not doing this.'

"I can't believe I'm doing this," I muttered with my arms crossed. The entire Raw roster was sitting in a conference room for a meeting with the creative writers.

"Believe it baby," Cena said playfully, trying to cheer me up.

I shot a glance at him to show that I was clearly not in the mood.

"Ooook," he said awkwardly.

I didn't want to take my anger out on Cena, but I was just so furious! Two days ago Vince ad informed me that I would be Morrison's manager, and of course Morrison just _had_ to be gung ho for it, now he was late to the meeting! Needless to say, I was seething.

Just as I was about to give up on Morrison and walk out, he walked in.

"Sorry, I'm late," he said, "My flight was delayed and the airport lost my luggage."

"No worries, John," one of the creative writers told him.

As he sat down I looked away, completely avoiding eye contact. I could feel him staring at me, trying to get my attention.

"Alright guys, I'm Sam and I'll be working on your story with you," the creative writer said. She brought her long braid over her shoulder and straightened her black lace covered blouse.

Morrison continued to stare at me, letting a long silence hang over us.

"Um ok," Sam said, "How about we get started?"

"Alright," Morrison agreed happily. His happiness irritated me.

Sam and Morrison looked at me as if expecting me to smile and become excited over this ridiculous situation. I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever," I said indifferently. They exchanged awkward glances, not exactly sure how to respond to my attitude.

"Uh, well, next week John is scheduled to be in a match against Dolph Ziggler and you're in a rivalry with Brie," Sam said nodding her head at me. "I was thinking that Brie would be down at the ring "supporting Dolph" and she'll somehow attack John and you'd run down the ramp and fight with Brie. Somehow she'll get a good punch in and she'll run away and we'll time it just right so Morrison will win the match... It's a little rough, but I can work on it."

I sat back refusing to say anything. The awkward silence hung over us until Morrison decided to break it.

"Well, I like that idea," he said happily.

Sam's face shone with relief.

"Great! Uh Anastasia?"

Sam and Morrison looked at me, waiting for my response.

I shrugged. "Fine," I said indifferently.

Sam shifted her eyes to Morrison, realizing that the awkward moment needed to end.

"Ooook," she said, "I'll uh, just talk to you two tomorrow." Sam got up and left.

Surprisingly, Cena had been quiet throughout the whole meeting. He and Morrison turned to look at me as if I were insane.

"What?" I asked, irritated.

Cena rolled his eyes. "I got to go to an interview," he said, shifting his eyes between the two of us. "You two be nice."

Cena walked away, leaving me looking sullen with lips pouting and my arms crossed. Morrison looked at me, trying to get me to say something.

'This meeting sure is full of expectant looks,' I thought.

Morrison sighed and shook his head.

"What?" I asked impatiently.

"I just wish you would take this seriously," he said.

"I _do_ take my job seriously! I just..." I stopped mid-sentence and sighed.

'Calm down, Anastasia,' I thought to myself, 'Be nice.'

"I take my job seriously," I said calmly. "As a matter of fact I take it a little _too_ seriously, because I wanted to be doing something much more serious than being a manager, basically an arm ornament... I just get a little worked up."

Morrison smiled. "Well, you're _trying_ to be nice, I can see that. Let's just see how long we can make that last," Morrison said, stepping closer to me.

I stepped back with confusion clear across my face. "What do you mean?" I asked.

Morrison smiled down at me. "Come to dinner with me? We could talk about our promo?" he said while running placing a hand gently on my shoulder.

I couldn't believe e was flirting with me! I was about to open my mouth to fire a snappy response at him. Instead I decided to change things up.

"Ok. Fine," I agreed sweetly.

Morrison's mouth dropped open and his eyes widened.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'll go to dinner with you... But don't think you're going to be flirting with me all night. I don't respond kindly to that," I said the last sentence sternly.

Morrison smiled sincerely. "I'm not trying to hit on you. I'm just trying to be a friend."

I smiled slightly and began to walk away, I stopped and looked over my shoulder. "Oh and one more thing."

"Yeah?" he asked.

"This is not a date."

Morrison regained his cocky composure and smiled. "Yes ma'am."

I rolled my eyes and walked away. I walked to the locker room to relax. With my new promo and everything else quickly approaching, I got headaches frequently. I was rummaging through my bag, trying to find some Tylenol, when I noticed a bouquet of flowers lying in my locker. I picked them up and noticed their beauty. There were a dozen white daises with a white ribbon tied gracefully around them. I noticed a card attached to them. I grabbed the card expecting to find who had sent them. The note read:

"Anastasia,

I've witnessed your independence and strong personality in this business. I quite admire these qualities in a person. I can tell you will go fat in this business and have many admirers. I hope you take these white daises, which are a symbol of purity, as a token of my pure admiration of your character.

Sincerely, a friend."

'A friend?' I thought, 'Who on earth sent me these?' I racked my brain for who knew my favorite flowers. Maybe a fan took a lucky guess on them? I sat back and thought for a while, twirling the bouquet in my hands and occasionally inhaling their scent.

"Sincerely, a friend," I repeated to myself, "What friend?"

Suddenly it dawned on me. A friend! Morrison had said earlier that he was "trying to be a friend". It was Morrison!

"Wow, he really is trying to be nice."

"Who's being nice?"

I spun around to see Cena standing there.

"Uh no one," I said, "What's up?"

Cena shrugged. "Nothing." He looked away nonchalantly and I knew he was lying.

"Cena, what's wrong?" I asked.

He looked at me with an agitated look on his face. "Will you please just give Morrison a chance?" he said bluntly, "I mean, he really _is _trying. He's been watching what he says around you, he was happy at the meeting, he asked you to dinner, he's honestly just trying to-"

"Cena." I interrupted, "I know. I'm going to give him chance."

Cena's face was clear with shock. He stepped closer to me and a put a hand on my forehead. I looked up at him, very confused.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Checking for a fever. I think you're sick."

I shoved his hand away playfully. "Oh shut up," I said, "Even _I _can be nice."

Cena smiled. "Yeah, sure you can."

"I can!" I protested, "I'm nice to you!"

"Yes, but I'm not, how you put it, "an obnoxious little superstar"."

I laughed. "That's true, but I think Morrison's really trying this time."

I held the flowers up to Cena's nose. He took the card and read. I watched his eyes go from left to right, widening with each compliment.

"Wow. He really does like you," he mumbled under his breath.

"What?"

"Oh nothing. I was just saying I should probably leave so you can get ready for your date," Cena said while walking to the door.

"It's not a date," I warned.

"Yeah yeah," he said letting the door close behind him.

I rolled my eyes at his little joke. I walked over to my bag, twirling the flowers around. I was being extremely girly, but I didn't care.

'He's being nice,' I thought, 'Wow... I wonder if he likes me.' I shook my head vigorously. 'Snap out of it!' I thought to myself. 'You sound like middle school girl!'

I rummaged through my bag, looking for something cute. I found my favorite dress, a shin length flowy, turquoise dress. It had a tight bodice and a sweet heart neckline with halter straps. I was never a big fan of dresses, but when I saw this dress in the store I knew it was for me. I dug out my black heels that strapped up my ankles.

Once I was dressed, I fixed my hair into a half up/half down style with jeweled hair clips. I did my makeup in the usual style of a Covergirl skin tone and smokey eyes. I made my way to the door, but stopped immediately once I caught a glimpse of myself in the full length mirror. I saw a beautiful woman that actually seemed elegant.

"Woah," I said.

I twirled around, causing my dress to float gracefully on the air. I giggled like a blissful idiot. I had actually started to like the way I looked. I caught a glimpse of the clock and saw that it was five minutes until seven. I grabbed my purse and walked out the door. I made my way to my car and saw Morrison standing there. I approached him with a smile on my face. His eyes widened.

"Wow," he said.

My smile widened. "Thanks."

"You're really dressed up for something that's not a date," he said arrogantly.

My smile disappeared and I propped my hands on my hips. "I could say the same thing about you," I said, noticing his typical Ed Hardy attire. "I'm guessing you have Christian Audigier on speed dial."

Morrison smiled his smug smile and just like that, we were back to normal. I rolled my eyes and began to open my car door.

"Hey," Morrison stopped me, "That was a joke. I'm trying to be your friend, remember?... You do joke don't you?"

Once he said that I actually loosened up and the weirdest thing happened... I laughed. Morrison smiled sincerely.

"There ya go," he said, "I knew there had to be a smile for me somewhere in you."

I looked at him through my eyelashes. "There might even be a laugh."

Something flashed in Morrison's eyes. I wasn't sure what it was, but I actually liked it.

Morrison quickly straightened up. "Um we should go," he said awkwardly. He began to open the driver's side car door.

"Woah there buddy," I said, "Only _I_ drive this car. In the passenger seat ya go." I added a smile to make sure he knew it was a friendly command.

Morrison furrowed his brow. We got in the car and I started the engine. I put the car in drive and peeled out. Morrison stiffened slightly.

"You know," he said, "You're not like most girls."

I smiled and looked at him sideways.

"Maybe that's because I'm a woman," I said with a hint of humor in my voice.

Morrison smiled. "You're right."

I almost swerved off the road when those words came out of his mouth. I quickly regained my composure and straightened the steering wheel.

"Seriously?" I asked.

Morrison laughed nervously as he held on to his seat. "Yeah, seriously. I see you as a very mature... feisty woman."

I laughed at his feisty comment. It hadn't been the first time someone had called me feisty.

"Thanks," I said. An awkward silence settled over us. I decided to turn on the radio. I'd always hated awkward silences. I had to fill the air with something. Set Fire to the Rain drifted through the speakers.

Morrison chuckled slightly.

"What?" I asked.

Morrison looked at me with an amused smile on his face. "Nothing... I just thought you were a hard rock girl. Now, I see you have a soft side."

I rolled my eyes. "Ok, yeah. A little soft," I said reaching to the radio, "How about this?" I switched the song to Rolling in the Deep. Morrison raised one eyebrow.

"That's still soft." I scoffed, disagreeing. "I beg to differ. Listen to the words."

Morrison tilted his head toward the radio.

"Don't underestimate the things that I will do," I sang, "Those words are not soft. She's out to get him."

"Who's him?" Morrison asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Use your brain, Morrison. She's obviously talking about the guy who hurt her," I said.

Morrison laughed. "Use my brain? Are you calling me dumb?"

I chuckled slightly. "Of course not! I mean there has to be a brain underneath that fluffy hair." I reached over and ruffled his hair.

He laughed and shook his head, attempting to make his hair fall back into place, but only made to look more wild.

We bursted into laughter at his "bead head' hair style.

At that moment it felt right to be with him, to rid in my '67 Impala, listening to Adele, and just being... friends.

"No way!" I exclaimed.

Morrison smiled broadly. "Yup. No joke."

"She really smacked your butt?" I asked.

Morrison laughed. "She sure did. Mae Young hasn't even come close to losing her touch with the guys."

I laughed. "Yeah. She was always feisty."

"Agreed," Morrison said, "Now, let's get started on how our promo should go."

I sat back, furrowed my brow, and stroked my chin, performing a thinking pose which caused Morrison to laugh. I couldn't believe we were getting along so well. As laughter shook his body, he flicked his hair off of his face and our eyes met. I had never noticed he had such intense blue eyes. Blue eyes that seemed to see right through the wall I had worked so hard to build.

"Ahem," a voice broke through our moment. We looked up and saw the waiter standing there, ready to take our order. Morrison chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

We gave the waiter our orders, quickly realizing that we had just had a chick flick moment in a public restaurant.

"Ok," I started, "Promo time."

"Ok. So uh... I'll be fighting Ziggler and Brie can uh... What can Brie do?"

I laughed. "You need help?"

He smiled sheepishly and, I'm not joking, he even blushed a little. "I don't have a creative bone in my body," he admitted.

I laughed at his sheepish demeanor. "Ok, um," I started, "Hmmm... How about Brie distract the ref and them Ziggler could give you a low blow-"

"Woah woah," Morrison interrupted me, "Careful with my well being."

I smiled. "Oh take it like a man," I joked.

His eyes widened and he feigned hurt. I rolled my eyes and continued.

"After he low blows you I could run to the ring and confront Brie and the confrontation could lead a fight." Morrison kept his eyes on me as if he couldn't believe I had just formed that idea on my own.

"What?" I asked.

Morrison cocked his head to the side. "Are you sure you're a WWE Diva? Maybe you're really a creative writer in disguise," he joked.

I smiled slightly. "I'm going to take that as a compliment."."

Morrison leaned in closer. "You should. I can tell you're not just a diva, you're smart... Definately not like the other diva's."

I looked down as I felt my face heating up.

'Why does he have to be so kind?' I thought. I was startled from my thoughts when I felt a warm hand caress my cheek. Morrison cupped my chin and tilted my face up to him. His blue eyes peered deeply into mine as he moved closer to me. He was going to kiss me and all I could do was stare at him.

Suddenly my common sense was restored and I pulled away quickly. Morrison looked at me and I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes and then it was quickly gone. I felt bad for pulling away, but I couldn't confuse myself with a relationship... I just couldn't.

"So um, after Brie and I fight she could get a cheap shot on me and run away, leaving you to win beat Ziggler," I said quickly.

I didn't absolutely love the idea of Brie getting the upper hand, but this little get together had to end.

Morrison's forehead creased. "Ook. Um once I win I could check on you and make sure-"

"Yeah sounds great," I interrupted while standing up.

"Um ok then," Morrison said.

I walked quickly out of the restaurant and to my car. I got in a prepared to leave. I was sticking my key in the ignition when a tap on the window made me jump. I looked over and saw Morrison. He opened the door and got in.

"Planning on leaving me to pay for a taxi?" he asked.

"Oh sorry," I said while turning the key. I could feel Morrison's eyes on me. I wished he would look away or something.

I peeled out of the parking lot and sped all the way to the hotel. The whole time Morrison was clutching the seat and I even think I heard him whimper. I slammed on brakes.

I quickly got out and began to walk away, but Morrison placed his hand on my shoulder.

"Anastasia, are you ok?" he asked. His eyes searched mine, looking for an answer.

"Yeah," I lied, "I'm fine.. I just realized it was so late and we have the event tomorrow and uh... yeah, we need to be rested."

"Well, um ok. I guess," he said awkwardly, "I'll see you tomorrow."

I was already walking away when he said that. I entered through the doors quickly and got on the elevator as fast as possible. The last thing I needed was a long awkward elevator ride with Morrison. The elevator reached my floor and I hurried to my room.

I scurried to the bathroom to splash some water on my face.

'Oh my gosh,' I thought to myself. 'What's wrong with me? I can't distract myself with a guy! How stupid can I be?'

I sighed heavily and shook my head. I ran a warm bath and soaked. I had to think for a while. I knew I was lying to myself. It wasn't because Morrison could distract me, I just didn't trust him. I was scared. Scared of being hurt again. I just didn't know what to do... So I prayed. I prayed to God for courage, about my life on the road, about missing my family, and about Morrison. I had no idea what to do about him. I was clueless.

I woke up from a dreamless sleep and went about my normal morning routine. After I was done with my shower I caught sight of my reflection and noticed the bags under my eyes.

"Ugh. This is a job for the makeup artists," I muttered to myself.

I walked out of my hotel room and forced my tired body to the elevator. I pushed the down button, but nothing happened. I waited five minutes before I got irritated. I pushed the button again and again and got nothing for ten minutes.

"Ugh!" I grunted. I kicked the wall just as the elevator doors opened, revealing a confused looking John Cena.

"Did I come up at a bad time or did the wall just have it coming to him?" he joked.

I huffed a frustrated laugh. "Bad time," I answered.

Cena opened his arms and smiled. "Need a hug?... They're free."

I rolled my eyes as Cene enveloped me in a hug. I snuggled closer in his enormous arms.

"Thanks John."

"John? You really must be having a bad day. You used my first name."

I stepped back and looked up at him. "Yeah, just having some doubtful thoughts."

"About what?"

My breath caught in my throat. I didn't want to tell him I was scared. Admitting I was scared was like backing down. And I never back down.

"Anastasia!"

My head snapped to where the voice was coming from. Morrison was making his way down the hall. He was wearing a normal fitted black tee and jeans, his hair was pulled back. I had never been so happy to see him.

"Hey, Morrison," I said a little too enthusiastically.

"Uh, Hey,... Hey, John."

"'Sup Morrison?"

We all stood there waiting for Cena to get the point. Finally, a look of realization came across his face.

"Oooh!" he said dumbly, "Well, uh. I'll uh... go do something." Cena stepped back onto the elevator and waved happily as the doors closed.

I shook my head while laughing. "You gotta love him," I admitted.

Morrison smiled. "Yeah, uh. I was wondering... Why did you run out like that last night? I mean, did I do something wrong?"

"No," I said quickly, "I just, I-I," I sighed. "I just have... issues with letting go."

Morrison's eyes widened.

"What?" I asked.

"I think you were just honest with me," he said sarcastically.

"Shut up! This is hard for me. you idiot!" I said, playfully punching him.

He laughed. "Hey, you're making progress and that's all that matters... Would you mine escorting me to the lobby, manager?" He said and put his arm out for me to loop mine through it.

I laughed and looped my arm with his. "Yes, my good sir," I said in an English accent.

We walked onto the elevator not as enemies, not as people who were _trying_ to be nice to each other, but as friends.

"Hold still!" Celia, my stylist, scolded me as she applied mascara to my eyelashes.

I jerked away impatiently. "Sorry! I told you I have make up tarettes!"

Celia laughed loudly. "Shut up! You'll make me smudge this master piece." She held my eye open and coated my lashes with more mascara. She then got the blush applicator and prickled it on my skin.

"Remind me again what I did to deserve this torture," I muttered.

Celia stepped back and smiled widely. "You look into that mirror and tell me if that's torture." She twirled my chair around to face the mirror.

I waited for the woman in front of the mirror to move. She never did and after a moment I realized that the woman was me. Celia had straightened my hair, but also given in volume. I hadn't realized how long it had gotten; it was already down to the middle of my back cascading down like a dark brown waterfall. Celia had style my eyes with a gold powder that shimmered even as shadows fell over it. My lips were a beautiful shade of red that refused to look slutty, and my cheek bones looked higher than ever.

"Holy crap!" I gushed

Celia smiled. "Yeah! I knew there was a little hotty some where in there."

I ran my fingers through my silky hair. "What's the occasion?" I asked.

Celia shrugged. "I figured the world should see what a hotty you are. I'm going for "rock goddess"."

"Rock goddess?" I asked.

She nodded. "Just wait until you see what you're wearing!" She grabbed my hands and led me over to a wheel rack with hanger bags on it. She picked up the first one and unzipped it slowly, revealing the contents. I gasped and acted the girliest than I ever had in my life. I jumped up and down. "Give me! Give me!" I grabbed the clothes and ran behind the changing screen. Once I had slipped the clothes on, I looked in the mirror. I was practically shimmering in a gold halter top that scooped at the neckline without sowing cleavage, and only showed about half an inch of my stomach. The tights were black bell bottoms covered in gold sequins at the bottom, then swirled up in intricate designs.

I stepped out in the open, causing Celia to squeal. "Oh my gosh," she said in her thick Boston accent. "You look wicked!"

I laughed at her Boston slang.

"I'll take that as a compliment," I joked.

"You should," she said. "You look hot!"

Just then the stage hand, Bryan, peeked in. "Anastasia? It's time," he said.

I grinned widely. I was very excited to do this promo. I was ready to show the WWE Universe the new hot, but still modest, me. I followed Bryan to the curtain.

I closed my eyes, cleared my head, and popped my neck. I had made this my little ritual before going out. Suddenly a voice broke through my thoughts.

"Go get 'em, Stasia."

I didn't even need to open my eyes to know that the voice came from Cena. I sent a friendly wave his way and stayed in my zone. I opened my eyes to watch the small screen mounted on the wall. I waited for my cue. Then there it was! Brie distracted the ref by jumping on the apron, Ziggler noticed the opportunity and quickly delivered a low blow to Morrison. The audience "Oooooohed" as Morrison doubled over.

I quickly threw back the curtain and ran down the ramp. I pushed Brie. "What was that about," I yelled. "Is that the only way you and Ziggler can win? By cheating?"

Brie shouted some obscene words back to me. Words, I'm sure the tech producers had to bleep out.

I heard the insult of a female dog and chose that word to slap out of her mouth. My one hit sent her reeling to the floor. I grabbed the back of her neck and hauled her up. I executed a perfect running bulldog and went to pick her up again. Brie then chose that time to get her cheap shot. She gave an all too real thumb to the eye, causing anger to surge through me and send my fists flying blindly for her. Suddenly her open hand connected with my face and I fell to the ground.

The exact time the bell rang was also the same time I came to the conclusion that the other diva's were not going to treat me like a co-worker, but an actual enemy.

I heard Josh Matthews announce Morrison the winner of the match just as he was helping me up.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

I nodded me head to signify I was. He led me up the ram and backstage. As soon as we were backstage I straightened up, but Morrison still had his hands on me.

"That was great," I said.

"Yeah," he agreed, "But some divas should learn to stick to the script."

I furrowed my brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well, when she gave you a thumb to the eye you weren't supposed to try to hit her," Morrison said with a hint of joke in his voice.

Even though he was joking, I still got angry.

"Well, thanks for considering my eye. Did you even notice that she actually _did _poke me in the eye? She was the one not sticking to the script!"

Morrison's eyes widened and his hinds flew to my shoulders to stop me from walking away.

"Stasia, wait."

I snatched away from him. "Only my _friends _call me Stasia."

I walked away leaving him stunned. I considered my actions and thought I did over react a little, but I was too proud to admit that to him.

I opened the door to the women's locker room to find what I was expecting: the "we can't stand you" look from every diva in there. I started gathering my things, not wanting to deal with them. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around to snap at whichever diva thought it was a good idea to touch me.

"Don't even think about it," Cena told me. He quickly placed his hand over my mouth. "You're going to sit down and _listen. _I don't know what your problem is Stasia, but I want you to fix it. Morrison was just joking and you know that. I don't know, maybe you're having some insecurity issues."

"I do not ha-"

"Shut up," Cena interrupted me, "Everyone as insecurity issues, even the great Anastasia, and yours are blinding your judgment. Morrison is trying hard to be your friend and you know it." "Then he should try harder," I snapped.

A silence hung over the locker room as everyone waited for the next line.

"How much harder does he have to try before he meets your ridiculous standards?"

Cena's statement hit me like a ton of bricks. He was right, I was being ridiculous and I knew it.

Cena shook his head and started to leave. He stopped at the door and turned back. "Just give him a chance." With that he left.

Every diva stared at me with wide eyes.

"Oh what are _you_ looking at?"

**Alrighty peoples! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter 5: Promise

**Ok, guys, I am SOOOOOOOO sorry this chapter has taken so long. College had me the busiest I have ever been and whenever I did get a chance to work on this story, my internet was down. So, I apologize!**

**Anyway, this chapter is where it starts to get real! Once again, the songs are important, they create the moment! lol. **

**Remember, I own absolutely NOTHING! Except my OC's and storyline.**

**Alrighty, children. Grab a juice box and take a seat because it's story time! :)**

* * *

><p>I leaned against the hood of my car with my ipod blasting in my ears. The cold weather had banished everyone else inside, except me. I was the only female that I knew of, that actually chose to wear short sleeves in winter. I've always loved the cold weather and winds.<p>

I let my head fall back and let the rest of the world disappear as the chilling winds washed over my skin and Free Falling by Tom Petty played in my ears. I never even understood the lyrics, but the sound of the song made me feel relaxed and happy.

I swayed and hummed the words; I was completely lost in the music until I felt a warm hand on my arm. The touch didn't scare me because I knew exactly who it belonged to,

"Hello Morrison," I said without opening my eyes.

"I didn't know you were a Tom Petty kind of girl," he said. He had clearly heard me humming.

I opened my eyes and cocked my head sideways.

"I'm not," I started, "Just that one song really."

Morrison still hadn't taken his hand off me. He rubbed my arm with a confused look on his face.

"Do you want a jacket?" he asked. "You're covered in chills."

I smiled slightly. "No thanks... I like chills. They're God's little reminder that winter isn't always sweaters and soft blankets. That there is someone somewhere going through a hard time in this winter and they don't have a blanket or a jacket."

Morrison chuckled slightly. "Well, aren't you deep?"

I smiled in return. I took a deep breath and figured I might as well get to it. I had asked him to meet me here so I could apologize. I just hoped he wouldn't rub it in my face, that I was wrong.

"Well, Morrison," I started, "I obviously asked you here for a reason and I..." my voice trailed off. I hated admitting I was wrong, but I had to do it. It was the right thing and I was not about to let myself become a typical diva.

"I want to apologize, for everything. I have been unbelievably rude and arrogant and... I'm sorry."

Morrison nodded slowly, taking in everything I had just admitted. "Well," he started, "You're right. You _have_ been rude and arrogant and even a little bratty..."

I took in the insults, knowing they were true and knowing I deserved everything he was throwing my way.

Morrison stopped slightly. "But I haven't been completely innocent either and I'm sorry too... Even though it was mainly your fault," he said with a smile.

I chuckled at his joke. He was really growing on me. I stuck out my hand and smiled.

"Truce?" I began, "You think we can just start with a clean slate? I can actually act civil towards you."

Morrison took my hand in agreement. "And I can bug you until you break."

I smiled; however, I think he meant it. Either way, we shook hands and agreed to act as civil as we could for as long as we could.

* * *

><p>I struggled to get out of the headlock that Cena had me in. His grip tightened in response.<p>

"No Stasia," he started, "You're not gonna get out by acting like you're a teen getting attacked in a parking lot. You have to have confidence, remember how I taught you."

Cena and I, along with Morrison, Randy Orton, and Zack Ryder were going over a few techniques and just getting warmed up for the night. I racked my brain for the solution to getting out of a headlock. There were so many, but one stood out in my mind. I brought my fist back as far as I could and slammed it as hard as I could right into Cena's abdomen.

"OOF!" Cena released me and clutched his stomach. He let out a few coughs and laughs. "Ok," he said, "Not pretty, but effective."

I smiled in return and patted Cena on the shoulder. "Take a breather, Cena. You seem tired," I joked.

Morrison and Randy laughed as Cena took the opportunity. He slid out of the ring and sat on the floor.

"Sit tight, Cena," Morrison said, "I'll take care of her." Morrison hopped onto the ring apron and climbed through the ropes with a smile on his face.

I returned the smile and propped my hands on my hips. "And just what do you thing _you're_ going to do?"

Morrison, smiling mischievously, sauntered up to me. He looked me up and down and locked his eyes with mine.

I kept my eyes glued to his, trying to predict his next move. Suddenly, he hauled me onto his shoulders, almost Attitude Adjustment style. I wiggled, trying to get away, when I remembered that I just needed to relax. I took a deep breath and quickly placed my hands on his shoulders and slung myself off his shoulders, and somehow turned a flip in the process. I landed on my feet with my fists raised in attack position.

Cena and Randy cheered from outside the ring and Morrison turned with a stunned look on his face. He clapped his hands, congratulating me.

"Nice Stasia," he began, "Very Jet Li of you."

I laughed at his joke. "Jet Li huh?" I sent my foot flying towards his face and at the last second I propped it on his shoulder. "Are you scared?"

Cena and Randy "oohed" and Morrison playfully shoved my foot off of his shoulder.

"Scared of what?" he asked, "A girl?"

The guys "ooohed" even louder.

"That sounds like a challenge to me, Stasia," Cena called from outside the ring. Randy and Zack laughed in approval.

"Well, Cena, you know I enjoy a challenge," I said without taking my eyes off of Morrison. I stepped back to look at him as a whole.

"So you think I'm a girl, do you?" I asked.

Morrison shrugged nonchalantly.

"Well, first, I think I should educate you on what a girl is," I said while walking back up to Morrison.

"Sick, bro," Zack whispered from outside the ring.

"A girl," I began while circling Morrison, "Is someone who giggles when a guy compliments them." I continued circling Morrison and ran my hand across his shoulder blade as I said, "A girl is someone who depends on me for the things they want." At that point I was in front of Morrison again and I locked eyes with him. "I think we both know that I'm clearly not a girl." I stepped up close to look him in the eyes. "I'm a woman."

Morrison smiled slightly and held my eyes. "A woman?" He stooped to put his nose to mine. "Prove it."

We kept our eyes locked, daring the other to laugh. Before I could realize what he was doing, Morrison thrust his fingers to my side and began tickling me.

"Hey," I protested between laughs. "Stop! That's cheating!"

Morrison quickly picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I kicked my legs in an attempt to get down.

"Put me down!" I shouted while laughing.

"Ok," Morrison said, "You asked for it." He brought me over to the ropes and threw me into the arms of Cena and Randy. They set me down gently as we all laughed.

"You cheaters," I said playfully, "Do you even know how to play fair?"

"Not really."

"Never."

"I did once."

I rolled my eyes at their responses. "Oh whatever. I have to go anyway. I have to find a stupid dress for the Slammy Awards."

"I get the feeling you don't exactly enjoy wearing dresses," Morrison said.

"Figure that out all on your own?" I asked with a wink.

Morrison hoped out of the ring and slung an arm around my shoulders. "I just had a brilliant idea. How about I go with you? You might need a guy's opinion."

My mouth dropped in shock. "Are you serious? No way! I am not gonna go shopping with you!"

"Hey," Zack said, "What if he picked out your dress and you go this tux?"

Everyone stared silently at Zack's crazy, yet creative idea. Zack offered an awkward shrug. All the guys exchanged looks that said they were thinking, and that could be dangerous. Morrison smiled at me.

"I like it," he agreed.

I laughed at the ridiculous idea. "Oh absolutely not!"

"Come on," Cena said, "It's not like he'd get you a burlap sack. I mean, look at how the guy dresses."

"Exactly," I said, "Rhinestones and fur coats. I shudder at just the _thought _of what you would pick out."

Morrison plastered a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. "I take offense to that. Come on, I can tell by your style exactly what kind of dress you would want."

"Oh really?" I asked. "Tell me, just what kind of dress would I want?"

Morrison pulled a serious thinking face and stroked his chin jokingly. "I would say probably a conservative and tasteful floor length gown. Most likely dark with flowing material... Am I right?"

My jaw hung slack at his flawless description of the kind of dress I would have been looking for.

"So," Morrison began, "You wanna buy my tux?"

I thought about it, considering what would look good on him and if he really would buy the dress he just described. I reached my decision. I had faith that he wouldn't buy a ridiculous dress just for fun.

"Ok," I agreed, "How about we decide on a color so we match? How about dark purple?"

Morrison laughed at knowing I would pick a dark color. "Alright. Sounds great, deal." He stuck his hand out, wanting to seal the deal.

I grasped his large hand and nodded. "Deal."

* * *

><p>I stood in front of a mirror in the locker room, fixing the smudges of my makeup. I was waiting for Morrison to bring my dress. We would be presenting an award together and I was really nervous. I usually didn't get nervous when I was wrestling, but any time I had to grab a mic I freaked out.<p>

Suddenly, a knock shocked me out of my thoughts.

"Anastasia?" Bryan's voice sounded.

I turned to see him standing in the door way, holding a dress bag that reached all the way down to the floor.

"This just came for you," he said.

"Thanks," I said while taking the bag, "Did Morrison give this to you?"

Bryan shook his head. "No, some guy in a hoodie, probably Morrison's assistant."

I thought for a moment. Did Morrison even have an assistant? I always saw him carrying his own things, being a typical man.

"Well, thanks," I said confused.

He nodded and left so I could change. I opened the dress bag and almost screamed in disgust at what hung on the hanger. However, before I judged the dress too seriously, I decided to try it on. After all, some dresses look very different once they're off the hanger. I stepped into the dress and looked in the mirror. Once I saw the dress on me I realized I was right. The dress didn't just look different on the hanger, it looked _better_ on the hanger. I looked in horror at my reflection and saw that the neckline of the dress was so low that it came past my sternum. There were also splits on both sides of the dress, each coming almost all the way up to my hips. And if that wasn't horrendous enough, the dress was skin tight, a sloppy shade of red, and there was practically no back on the dress until it reached the very lower part of my hips.

"Oh. My. Gosh." I said, fuming. I didn't even take off the dress, I just threw on my robe and headed to the guys locker room. I shoved to door open angrily.

"Morrison," I growled. He turned just in time so I could shove him back, causing him to crash onto his locker. All the men hushed and turned their eyes toward us.

"Whoa," Morrison exclaimed, "Are you insane?!"

"Am _I_ insane?" I raved, "I could ask the very same thing about you! What on earth were you thinking?!"

Morrison stood up and brushed himself off. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Don't play dumb," I growled.

"I don't think he's playing," Randy whispered.

Morrison shrugged, agreeing with Randy.

I yanked my robe open, showing Morrison the monstrosity that clung to my body. Every guy in the locker room dropped their jaws and I think I saw Ryder drool a little bit. Morrison's eyes registered with recognition.

"Is this your idea of conservative and tasteful?!" I raged, "I can't believe this!"

Morrison turned to rummage through his locker, which only fueled my rant.

"I mean, _just_ when I think we could be showing some shred of decency to one another, you go and pull a stunt like this. It isn't even the color we agreed on! And if you think for one second that I'm going to-"

Morrison turned to throw something at me. I caught it and got a good look at it. It was a beautiful floor length flowing purple gown that shimmered brightly. My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. Morrison really did have good taste. I looked back up at him, speechless. He smiled slightly.

"Yeah, you're welcome."

I continued staring at him, slack jawed. He placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me around gently and gave me a slight push towards the door.

"Off you go now," he said, as if he were speaking to a child.

I was so speechless; I might as well have been a child. I walked back to the locker room, still stunned. I opened the door and walked back over to the mirror. Every diva was staring at the red dress I had on. They were clearly shocked that I was wearing something of _their_ taste. I shucked off the red dress and slipped the purple one on.

I looked into the mirror and smiled at my reflection. The dress fit perfectly. It hugged the places it was supposed to and flowed freely around my legs and down to the floor. My hair had been curled loosely to flow around my shoulders and down my back. My eyes had been styled in a smokey fashion. I was very pleased.

I turned to walk to the door; every eye in the room followed me. I had made my way to the curtain as I was supposed to and found Morrison standing there with a smug smile on his face and wearing his tux. He looked amazing. Every bit of the suit was black, even the shirt. The tie was the only thing that stood apart from everything else; it was a deep shade of purple that matched my dress exactly.

I looped my arm through his. "Sorry," I said.

Morrison raised his eyebrows. "It's going to be difficult getting used to hearing that come out of your mouth."

I returned a smile. "You're telling me."

Morrison's eyes twinkled mischievously as he grasped my hand tighter in the crook of his arm. Suddenly, his music hit and that was our cue. Morrison walked me out regally and it took every bit of self control I had to not laugh. The crowd roared in appreciation.

We walked up to the podium to begin our speech. "Diva of the year," Morrison began, "A coveted title among the women of the WWE."

"Yes," I agreed, "A title so loved by the WWE diva's, that there have been fights, interruptions, and even a few tantrums, but there should be no tantrums form this woman." I picked up the envelope and opened it. "WWE Universe, you voted and Diva of the year goes to..."

"Beth Phoenix," Morrison and I announced together.

Beth's music hit and she came out to give her "thank you" speech. I clapped politely. Beth wasn't as modest as I would have liked, but she was one of the most modest divas and she deserved the award.

Just as the script had planned, Brie's music hit and _unlike _the script had planned, she came out in the red dress I had rejected not ten minutes ago. I almost laughed, but I remembered I was supposed to seem annoyed. She looked absolutely ridiculous. She wasn't as curvy as I was so, the dress hung loosely on her, causing her to appear sloppy.

"Beth Phoenix?" she asked, "Beth Phoenix for diva of the year? What is wrong with you people?"

I shrugged and walked up to her. "Well, first of all, _we _didn't pick her. The WWE Universe did," I said, gesturing to the audience, "And if you have a problem with the result maybe you should take it up with them, but here's the kicker Brie: I don't think they care."

The crowd cheered, agreeing with me. "And what do _you _know, Anastasia? If you rejected a dress like this," she said while twirling, "You must not know very much."

She wasn't sticking to the script at all; she was trying to shake me.

'Not gonna happen,' I though.

"Must not know much, huh?" I asked while circling her. I stopped to glare in her eyes. "I know you look like an anorexic crab in that slutbag dress."

Brie's face contorted with anger and she came towards me. I began to lunge at her, but Morrison's arms came around my waist.

"Not worth your job. Stasia," he whispered in my ear. His words immediately banished my anger. Of course it might have had something to do with the fact that his whisper had tickled my ear.

I backed off and straightened my dress. "I'll see you in the ring," I spat at her as Morrison and I walked backstage. My anger repapered and I stomped off down the hall. I didn't even know where I was going; I just knew I was fuming.

"Stasia, calm down," Morrison said.

I whirled around. "Why?" I asked, "Why should I calm down? This girl doesn't just dislike me; she wants to get me fired!"

"She's petty and immature," Morrison said, "Calm down, ok? Vince will take care of her."

I took a deep breath. "Fine," I said.

A slow smile spread across Morrison's face. "Anorexic crab?"

I huffed a small laugh. "Well, I couldn't say what I wanted to."

"Why not?"

"This show is rated PG-13," I replied.

Morrison cracked up. His laughter was so infectious that I had to join him. This guy was really starting to become a great friend.

"Get her to the ambulance quick!"

Morrison and I stopped our laughing immediately and snapped our heads in the direction of the voice. Several EMT's were rolling a stretcher down the hall. The stretcher passed us and revealed Beth lying with her eyes closed and blood staining her blonde hair.

"What happened?" I asked one of the EMT's.

"Brie," he replied, "She just lost it after you left. She was screaming and punching things and out of the blue she just drop kicked Beth off the stage. She cut her head on one of the jagged edges of the stage.

I gasped silently, my hand plastered over my heart.

"Is she going to be ok?" Morrison asked.

"I don't know," the EMT answered, "The cut's pretty deep. Someone will give you an update." With that he ran off to the ambulance and left us there, shocked.

"Oh my gosh," was all I could say.

"Come on," Morrison said, leading me to the exit.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"To the hotel," he answered, "I'm getting you as far away from that psycho as possible."

"But my stuff," I protested.

"We'll have it sent to the hotel."

"Morrison, wait."

"What," he asked, irritated.

"I'm staying. If I leave she'll think I'm afraid of her... Don't worry; I can take care of myself."

Morrison sighed and dropped my hand reluctantly. "Ok, but I'm waiting for you."

I smiled at his sweet gesture. "Ok."

I reached up and gave him a hug. His arms tightened around me. I wondered why he was so worried, but it was sweet enough that I didn't question it. It had been a long time since someone had taken such an interest in taking care of me. We broke apart and I gave him a reassuring smile. I turned and walked to the locker room to wait out the show.

I was sitting on the bench in front of my locker, attempting to let my ipod blast away my worries. However, it wasn't working that well. I was still worried sick about Beth. Most of the divas were and we were all waiting for an update.

Suddenly, the door to the locker room squeaked open. We all turned expecting to see Bryan or anyone with an update on Beth. Instead, we saw a short girl enter the room. She was so short and small, it seemed as if her growth had stopped and at age 13. She padded over to the locker marked "C.A.B", which was directly next to mine. We all knew that she had to be the new diva we were told to be expecting, but we still didn't know her. We just knew her as C.A.B. She opened the locker and rummaged through a few things.

I took out the earbuds that were still blasting music. I wanted to introduce myself, make polite conversation or something, but decided against it. This girl seemed strong, confident. I could tell she didn't need a friend.

"I agree with your ideas," she said.

I turned to look at her. She was facing me, her icy blue eyes staring directly at me. She seemed alert, as if she were ready to fight for her life at any moment.

"I'm sorry? What ideas?" I asked.

"Your ideas about the divas division," she said simply.

The room fell quiet and I could feel every diva in the room staring at the two of us. I decided to give them a show.

"Oh thanks," I said loudly, "It's been proven that if we wear gear that actually fits and covers everything then we won't have any wardrobe malfunctions."

The tension in the room increased as all the divas had just been offended.

C.A.B laughed at everyone's reaction and turned to her locker. She rummaged through and brought out a hair elastic. She scooped her long golden blonde hair up on to her head.

"So what's your name?" I asked.

She sighed slightly. "I've got a princess name... Promise not to laugh?"

I raised one eyebrow. "You do realize who you're talking to right?"

She huffed a small laugh. "Good point. Well, my birth certificate says Caterina."

I shrugged. "That's not so bad."

"True, but even still, just call me Cat."

I nodded. "You got it, Cat."

"Oh look, Anastasia finally made a friend."

I turned to the voice and saw Brie standing with a smug smile on her face.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, "I know you must have some sort of punishment."

"Chill out, Ms. Justice. I got suspended," she said.

"Indefinitely?" I sneered.

Brie frowned angrily. "What's it to you? It's not like you're going to accomplish anything in this business."

I started toward her with my fist drawn back. Suddenly, I felt a hand close over my fist and restrain me from swinging it. I turned and saw that the hand belonged to Cat.

"Don't do it. That's just what she wants. Don't let her manipulate you."

I sighed, wanting to let her manipulate me. I wanted to pound a hole through that overly tanned face of hers. She had no reason to do what she did to Beth and she definitely had no reason to hate me. Nevertheless, I stepped off.

"Ugh," Brie sighed, disgusted. She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked out, slamming the door. I turned to my locker and began shoving things into my bag.

"Are you alright?" Cat asked.

"Yeah," I reassured her, "As you've probably noticed, I'm not exactly liked by the divas around here."

She furrowed her brows, showing she was confused. "Why?"

I huffed a laugh at her naive attitude. "You'll see," I said while tossing my bag over my shoulder. I walked out, leaving the rest of the show to go on.

I walked into my hotel room, completely exhausted after the long day. Apologizing to Morrison, training, buying formal clothes, the show, and meeting a new diva had me drained. I changed into a pair of sweat pants and a tee and climbed into bed. It had been such a long and tiring day and I figured that I would've gone straight to sleep, but I tossed and turned for hours. I got up and chugged a glass of water, hoping I could go to sleep, but I never even became sleepy. I walked past the bed and caught sight of the alarm clock. It read 3:45 A.M.

"Ugh," I sighed. I walked out onto the balcony and sat on the cold iron chair. I looked out and saw that the city lights were alive. The cold breeze ruffled my hair as I leaned back and sighed.

"Nice isn't it?" a distant voice said. I looked to my left and saw that the balcony to the suite next to mine belonged to Morrison. He was leaning on the railing that over looked the city. I smiled, comforted by just his presence.

"Yeah," I agreed, "Even on nights like these."

Morrison smiled. He was wearing just a pair of sweatpants that hung loosely on his waist.

"Can't sleep?" he asked.

I shook my head pitifully. Morrison stood up with a smile on his face.

"What?" I asked.

"Meet me at the elevator," he said.

"Why?"

He didn't answer. He had already gone inside his suite. My curiosity got the best of me and I walked to the elevator. Morrison was standing there, but had put on a hoodie.

"What are you doing?" I asked

"You'll see," he said with a smile.

The elevator doors opened and we stepped on. Morrison hit the level 14 button, the very top floor.

"Is there a point to this?" I asked.

Morrison looked at me and smiled, but didn't answer. The elevator doors opened and we stepped out. Morrison took my hand and a tingle registered in my hand. His eyes met mine and we had what I call a chick-flick moment I quickly ended it before it lead to anything further. Morrison sensed my tension.

"Come on," he said while leading me to a door labeled "stairs". We walked up the stairs. Morrison opened the door and a chilling breeze greeted us. Morrison took my hand and led me out onto the roof of the hotel. I gasped as I took in the beauty of New York City. Even though it was 3:45 A.M. the city was lit up with the lights from the buildings. The lights contrasted with black of the sky.

"Oh my gosh," I breathed.

"I know," Morrison agreed, "I always go to the roof if I can't sleep. No matter where we are. The city or the country, the sky is always amazing."

I smiled as the breeze whipped through my hair. I lifted my arms and the breeze ruffled my clothes.

"This _is _amazing," I sighed. Then the thought hit me. Morrison couldn't sleep either. What was keeping him up?

"Morrison?"

"Hmm?"

"Why couldn't you sleep?" I asked.

Morrison looked at me for a while, staying silent.

"Well," he began, "Don't laugh, but... I miss _my_ bed."

A small smile crossed my face. "I understand."

"You do?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, "It's the little things. My bed, my house, even my closet."

Morrison laughed. "Yeah, living out of a suitcase gets pretty annoying."

"Yeah," I agreed, "But of course... I love this business. I couldn't imagine doing anything else."

"Spoken like true superstar," he said.

I laughed slightly and a silence settled over us. It wasn't an awkward silence, it was a content one. Somewhere off in the distance I heard music playing. I listened intently, trying to figure out the song. Then I heard the words and smiled. I'm Already There by Lonestar played in someone's apartment. Morrison chuckled as he recognized the song. He took my hand and twirled me around. I laughed softly. Morrison then bowed like a gentleman.

"May I have this dance?"

I smiled at him. "Yes, you may," I said as I curtsied.

Morrison placed one hand on my waist and took my right hand in his left as I placed my left hand on his shoulder. He lead me around as the song played, twirling me occasionally.

"Wow," I said, "You're a really good dancer."

"Thank you," he replied, "And I'm surprised you knew this song. I though you were more of a rocker girl."

"Oh I have many sides, Morrison."

Morrison smiled and put both hands on my waist leaving me no choice other than to circle both of my hands around his neck.

"Show me?" he asked in a low voice, his eyes playing with mine.

I decided to bring out my old church choir skills.

"I'm already there. Take a look around. I'm the sunshine in your hair. I'm the shadow on the ground," my soulful voice rang out and Morrison's eyes widened pleasantly.

The music swelled and I continued. "I'm the whisper in the wind and I'll be there 'till the end. Can you feel the love that we share? Oh I'm already there. Oh I'm already there."

"Wow," Morrison smiled while twirling me, "Great job."

"Thanks," I said shyly.

Suddenly, Morrison dipped me, causing both of us to laugh as I gripped his shoulders to hold on. He continued to hold me in the dip position as we laughed. Our eyes locked and we stared at each other, I had no idea what I was seeing in his eyes. He began to lean his head to mine. He was trying to kiss me again.

Without even realizing what I was doing I reached back and removed his hand from the small of my back, causing me to fall directly on my butt. Morrison looked at me, confused at first and then he began to laugh.

"I'm sorry," he said between laughs as he helped me up. "I shouldn't laugh, but your face when you fell..." he stopped talking because his laughs took over. I joined him, knowing I had to have looked ridiculous. As I continued laughing Morrison pulled me close to him and before I could protest, not that I would have again, he kissed me. His lips touched mine gently and my body came alive. My heart began to race faster, chills popped up all over my body, and my breath came out in quicker huffs. Morrison's hands held me gently and then began to roam across my back. He rubbed me so gently that I shuddered. He moved closer to me, closing the space between us. I pulled my head back, gasping softly for air. I was so surprised with myself. I had let him kiss me without even thinking that he might hurt me. He was so gentle, but I was still so scared.

"I won't hurt you," Morrison said as if reading my thoughts.

"I know."

Morrison leaned in again and I received his kiss, which was a little harder that time. His breath started coming out quicker as began kissing trails down my neck. He then slid his hands under my shirt causing me to gasp.

"Stop!" I exclaimed. I stumbled back.

"What? What happened?" Morrison asked.

I caught my breath. I couldn't believe I had almost gone so far.

"Anastasia, what's wrong?" he asked.

I looked at him and realized this was the moment he would probably hurt me. I straightened my shirt and took a deep breath, preparing myself for another heartbreak.

"Morrison," I started, "I'm a Christian and I completely plan on saving myself for marriage."

There was a long silence and I figured he had made his decision.

"So, you've probably just lost all interest in me so, I guess I'll... I'll just go." I began to walk away, but Morrison caught my wrist gently. I looked back at him, hoping for something different from what I had been expecting.

"You think I'm _that _shallow?" he asked, "I would never hurt you like that."

I stood there, shocked, happy, and slightly light headed. I was so shocked that he wanted to continue this with me. I had, once again, underestimated him. Although, he said he would never hurt me, my past said that most men could nothing except hurt me. I could only form one word in my mind.

"Promise?" I asked.

Morrison gently pulled me into his arms and kept his hands in respectable places. I rested my head on his solid chest and he stroked my hair.

"Promise."

* * *

><p><strong>There we go! She has FINALLY learned to trust that dude! :P Please review, it just makes my day! :)<strong>


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